So what’s middle age anyway except a state of mind that some struggle to get through and overcome. Here’s a collection of poems that deals with the everything that come with it. The book opens with: STRUMMING THROUGH MIDDLE AGE. "Strumming as in humming, humming as in thumbing, thumbing as in reclining through life without the will to sit up. Passing shapes, passing figures, stick figures, strumming by, running by. Running? Really running, not strumming. Man on your left, lady on your right, running. Gone today, gone tomorrow. Whose strumming now? Me, you, him? Whose humming, me, you, him? Whose doing anything? Me, you, him? Who cares, don’t care, fail to care. So strumming, running, humming, strumming, through, life, and, failing to care, bare, or witness the stare, failing to care and strumming."
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